I'd somehow missed these performances on their first,
full-priced go-round, and I'm glad to have caught this
F-sharp minor now. The first movement has its overtly flashy
moments, but Leif Ove Andsnes, unlike Mikhail Pletnev in his
uninvolved CfP account, knows that it can't just be a
virtuoso exercise. Andsnes keeps even the busiest passages -
like the disturbed figurations under the vaguely undulating
second theme in the orchestra - so intelligently layered, so
purposefully directed, that you almost forget how hard it is
just to play what's there. The cadenza is a full-blooded
musical statement, with the faster notes registering
as reflections of the deep, solid chords. Andsnes's handling
of the other movements is similarly perceptive. The Andante
is beguilingly expressive, with ear-catching pianos;
the finale's waltz theme has both rhythmic buoyancy and
tonal weight.
Antonio Pappano, like Pletnev's Libor Pešek an active
collaborator, elicits a nice variety of colors and textures
from the orchestra. He has a marked feeling for expressive nuance:
note the ebb and flow of the cello counter-melodies in the first
movement, and the "soft" landing at the Andante's
first expansive climax. The warm Berlin strings movingly shape
the finale's second theme, with its unexpected harmonic
and melodic turns. The horns sing out firmly; the whirling woodwind
squibs are given their head. The tuttis are full-blooded
and alert: the turbulent climax at 3:23 of the first movement
hurtles forward. The finale begins with bracing rhythmic address.
The C minor, recorded in performance, is similarly musical and
persuasive, benefiting from more of Andsnes's distinctive
shapings and voicings - I'd never before felt the piano's
"chordal counterpoint" to the cello line at 2:30 of
the first movement, for example. Sadly, the orchestral contribution
here isn't equally inspired. I imagine that the Berliners
play the score more regularly than its less familiar companion,
and here, perhaps, they've reverted somewhat to the "default"
settings routined in their fingers and lungs. Granted, the Berlin
Philharmonic's default is hardly bad, even if the Karajan
influence persists in some overly reined-in string melodies,
and in the oozy textures of the finale's climax. The
playing is often beautiful, but only intermittently glowing.
Only the finale's taut start rises above the conventional.
Some of the orchestral climaxes have a hint of "digital
edge"; otherwise the sound is excellent, reproducing both
piano and orchestra with depth. Endorsed then, with reservations
as noted. In the C minor concerto, Ashkenazy's second
recording, with Previn and the LSO (Decca), remains the most
thrilling in comparatively modern sound.
Stephen Francis Vasta
Stephen Francis Vasta is a New York-based conductor, coach,
and journalist.
see also review by Jonathan Woolf